What Comes After
by wthtonibelle
Summary: The battle is over, but its horrors still haunt Goku in the night. Set after the Black Goku arc in Dragon Ball Super. [GoChi. COMPLETE. Read & review!]


A/N: Set in a hypothetical future after the current DBS arc, main timeline. This was written with Episode 61 of DBS in mind, but you'll be able to understand it even if you don't watch DBS. Just note that Black Goku and Zamasu are the bad guys of the arc.

* * *

Son Goku woke up panting, his palms forming tight sweaty fists against the sheets, his heart pumping as fast as though he had been training.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and more than that for his brain to reconcile what he was really seeing with what he had feared he would.

Their bedroom was still and silent, but for the steady hum of an old-fashioned radiator under the window. Nights were always chilly on Mt. Paozu, especially so in the days leading to the close of the year.

But the radiator, though it did its job well, was not the reason that Goku was drenched in sweat, and neither were the three layers of blankets that covered him from the neck down.

A lump in the sheets beside him shifted.

"Is everything all right?" Chi-chi asked, barely a mumble.

Goku took in her face. Her eyes were closed, but not in death, and he managed to coax his voice into delivering a shaky 'yes'.

"I just need a drink," he added, then he slipped his legs from under the covers and off the bed. His feet felt for slippers in the darkness.

Goku made his way out the bedroom, closing the door silently behind him, into the dark hallway, down a flight of stairs, and into the kitchen. He flicked the light switch, went to the sink, and without bothering to wait for the heater to work, splashed his face mercilessly with water from the ice-cold stream of the faucet.

He had thought the nightmares would stop on their own, but it had been a few days since he returned and they only seemed to be getting worse. More persistent and more graphic. So much so that he could hardly close his eyes without seeing visions of his family getting murdered.

It was not as though he had witnessed the events firsthand. He only knew of it through Black and Zamasu, but perhaps that made it worse. It allowed his imagination to piece the story together and concoct a variety of images, each worse than the last, all as bad as the truth.

He splashed his face again. The water had warmed by now. He shut off the faucet and leaned heavily on his palms against the cool granite of the countertop.

"I thought you were getting a drink."

Chi-chi was there by the kitchen entrance, wrapped in heavy robes. She easily got cold; it must have something to do with growing up on Mt. Fry-Pan.

She walked over to him, and without another word, led him gently by the arm to sit at their wooden dining table.

"I'll heat some milk up for you," she announced.

Goku gave a small, unnecessary nod, his eyes on the polished wood of the table, his shoulders slouched and heavy.

He sat quietly as Chi-chi went about pouring milk in a pot and setting it on the stove. He remained quiet even when she returned, drawing a chair for herself and sitting by his side.

"You didn't think I would notice you having trouble sleeping?"

Goku did not answer, not right away, and it seemed a very long time before the world had sound again.

"I get nightmares, Chi-chi."

His eyes remained downcast. He would not look at her. In a way, he could not. She said nothing, her silence an invitation for him to continue.

"It always starts the same, here at home, with you and Goten. Then suddenly, it's dark, and you're gone. And I look for you. And I find you…"

He swallowed. His mouth had gone dry. He moistened his lips; they felt like weathered leather under his tongue.

"I find you," he continued. "On the floor. You and Goten. Your eyes are open, your mouths are open, like you'd been screaming.

And I'm shocked and I'm angry, and I scream for Black to come out and fight me. But he doesn't come."

Goku swallowed again. It was getting difficult to form words, but Chi-chi was quiet, waiting for him to finish.

"And I look at my hands, and I realize… I realize _I'm_ Black." He choked. " _I_ did it. It was _me_. _I_ killed you."

Goku finally looked at her then, and Chi-chi's heart shattered at the tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, Goku, it's not real!" she cried. "You're not Black! Black is gone, and we're all alive thanks to you!"

Goku buried his face in his hands. "I know, I know!" he wailed, distressed, frustrated. "But the nightmares won't stop!"

Chi-chi stood then. She pushed away from her chair, its legs making a loud scratching sound against the floor, and wrapped her robed arms around her tortured husband.

He let her cradle him, warmed by the thick fabric against his cheek, soothed by her small hands rubbing his back, relieved by the steady beat of her pumping, living heart.

She had seen Goku like this only once before, many years ago, in the wake of his first battle against Vegeta.

In the dead of night, when his friends had gone from the hospital, and Gohan had fallen asleep, she had helplessly watched agony take over her husband.

He had writhed in distress in his full-body cast, tears in his eyes and guilt weighing down his brows.

"It was me, Chi-chi," he had whispered, so softly it could have been just the breeze. "I was the monster that killed my grandpa."

And she had held him exactly like this as he choked on silent sobs, mourning his long-dead grandfather as the rest of the world slept.

The milk was boiling.

Chi-chi placed a kiss on top of her husband's head before extracting herself from the embrace. As she went to the stove and poured hot milk in cups, she mulled over what she could do to help Goku.

There were doctors for this, she knew that much. But Goku would not be keen on the idea. Besides, what doctor would believe them, once they started talking about wishing orbs and time travel and the fate of the universe?

She placed a cup of milk on the table in front of Goku.

"Drink up," she said, trying her best to sound gentle. "It will help you sleep."

Goku looked uncertain. "I'm not sure if I want to sleep."

"Nonsense," Chi-chi said, in the commanding tone he was used to. "You have to sleep. Then we'll fix you up in the morning."

"How?"

"I don't know yet," she admitted. "But I'll talk to Gohan. He'll know what to do. We didn't raise him to be a scholar for nothing."

A wry look settled on Goku's face. " _You_ raised him. I was gone for seven years of his life. More, if you count the time I was– Ow!"

Chi-chi had cuffed him on the side of his head.

" _We_ raised him," she declared with finality. "You were there the first eleven years of his life and you were the reason he even had a chance at a peaceful future. I don't want to hear otherwise."

She glared fiercely at him, as if daring him to argue, but he did not.

"Okay," he agreed. "I'm sorry," he added, a small smile now forming on his lips.

He took a sip of milk, as did Chi-chi. And for a while they exchanged no words, the silence between them neither awkward nor charged nor empty, but comfortable.

The milk warmed Goku's body. Sitting in his home in the company of his wife warmed a part of him that was more ethereal.

And at least for the moment, his nightmares no longer seemed substantial.

When he spoke again, he sounded more like his usual self.

"Do you really think it's okay to tell Gohan? Won't he worry?"

Chi-chi sniffed. "Let him worry. Not too long ago, you were the one helping him sleep when he got too afraid of shadows in his room."

They both smiled at the memory.

"Finish your milk, Goku. Let's go back to bed."

He nodded and gulped down what remained in his cup.

Chi-chi took his hand and led the way out the kitchen, up a flight of stairs, into a hallway, and through the open door to their bedroom. The steady hum of an old-fashioned radiator invited them back in with its promise of warmth.

As they settled under three layers of blankets, hands still intertwined, Chi-chi gave him a reassuring squeeze.

And though he knew that this respite was only momentary, Goku squeezed back, and let his heavy eyelids fall.

* * *

A/N: To tell the truth, there's more to this, but I don't have the time to write that down, so this is going to be a one-shot. Here's what will happen though, if you're curious—

Gohan and his family come over for dinner. Goku and Gohan go out for a walk. Gohan explains how Goku might be suffering from PTSD. He mentions how he can understand his dad now more than ever, because now he has a family of his own. He would die before he lets them get harmed. If he saw them get harmed, he would hunt down the man who did it to the gates of hell. If he saw them get harmed, it would haunt him badly, too. He and Goku share a moment not as father and son, but as two fathers.

Gohan recommends that his father talk to Piccolo. Piccolo could teach Goku how to meditate, control his mind better, and identify and manage triggers. Then Gohan takes out a bottle of medication and gives it to Goku. "To help you sleep," he says. And when Goku expresses doubt, Gohan assures him that it works. He knows because he has tried it himself. Goku is concerned, but Gohan tells him it's just "work stress". Gohan says that though he sometimes feels guilty about it, he's happy that he chose to become a scholar because the worst he had to deal with in the line of duty were deadlines. And Goku reassures Gohan that he's happy for him, too.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Leave me a review! Talk to meeee! :)


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